


give me back my heart you wingless thing

by suzukiblu



Series: Jetko Renaissance Week [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: First Kiss, Grooming, Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, Not Canon Compliant - The Legend of Korra, Not Compliant with Avatar Comics, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu
Summary: Lee’s wings are a mess, and Jet ismaddeninglydistracted by how badly he wants to groom them. He’s thought of very little else since first seeing the guy.
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Jetko Renaissance Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977535
Comments: 18
Kudos: 451
Collections: Jetko Renaissance Week





	give me back my heart you wingless thing

**Author's Note:**

> Day two of Jetko Renaissance Week. Day two’s prompt was “Warmth”, and I threw in wingfic. 
> 
> Accompanying art can be found [here](https://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/post/632389400170463232/illustration-for-my-day-two).

Lee’s wings are a mess, and Jet is _maddeningly_ distracted by how badly he wants to groom them. He’s thought of very little else since first seeing the guy, especially after noticing the way he refuses to let even his uncle anywhere near them. 

They’re damn pretty wings, even as dishevelled as they are. Pitch black, which isn’t a color Jet’s seen often, and big and strong-looking. Jet’s wings are smaller, brown and narrow and just a bit russet-tinted, and Longshot’s are gray and soft, and Smellerbee’s are dark brown and sharp. All pretty normal, as wings go. But Lee’s—those look like they belong in a fucking _painting_ or something, even all hunched in small. They’re almost as striking as Aang’s long cloud-white ones were, and might be if they were in better condition. 

Jet really wants to see, one way or the other. 

“Hey,” he says when they catch a moment alone, between stealing the food and hitting the docks, and Lee gives him an irritated look. Jet doesn’t take it personally. “C’mere.” 

“Why?” Lee says, and doesn’t. Jet’s definitely a little crazy about this guy. 

“Why not?” he says, flashing him a “trust me” grin that Lee does not respond to at _all_. Lee looks like he’s about to start listing “why not”s, in fact, so Jet heads _that_ off quick. “You did good, man. I’m impressed.” 

“It wasn’t hard,” Lee says. Jet laughs and leans in. He’s willing to go to somebody, if it’s somebody like Lee. 

“Yeah, I guess not,” he says. He doesn’t reach out and touch the other’s wings, but he really, _really_ wants to. “Let me do you a favor?” 

“What favor?” Lee asks suspiciously. 

“Two guesses, first one doesn’t count,” Jet says, fluttering his own wings meaningfully. His are much better-groomed than Lee’s, thanks to Longshot and Smellerbee and his own efforts. Lee bristles, folding his away even tighter. 

“I can groom my own damn wings,” he says. 

“Really?” Jet says, raising an eyebrow at him. “Because it really looks like you haven’t been.” 

“I don’t care what they look like,” Lee says. “There’s more important things to worry about.” 

“That just makes me want to groom them even more,” Jet says, his fingers itching to reach out and touch. 

“I don’t need it,” Lee says. 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ to,” Jet says. “Seriously, man, you’ve got broken feathers in there. How’d that happen?” 

“I got hit with a rock,” Lee says stiffly, which Jet translates to mean “pissed off an earthbender”. It’s an awful lot of broken feathers, otherwise. 

“C’mon, man, let me fix you up a bit,” he says. “I won’t take long.” 

“I don’t need your help,” Lee says. 

“So what?” Jet says. “Doesn’t mean I can’t help.” 

Lee glares at him with a total lack of trust that Jet isn’t unfamiliar with and doesn’t blame him for, given the war and the way people are and that scar, but he just holds his empty hands up passively and waits for the other to answer. He can be patient. Especially for a good thing, he can be patient. 

“My wings are fine,” Lee says. 

“Honestly, they’re kind of not,” Jet says. “Relax. Think of it as making a good impression on Ba Sing Se.” 

“I don’t care about making a good impression,” Lee says, his wings hunching defensively as he folds his arms. Jet would love nothing more than to see them spread out. 

“I have literally never had to try so hard to do someone a favor, I hope you realize,” he says. Lee scowls at him. 

“Nobody _asked_ you to,” he snaps. 

“Didn’t say you did,” Jet says, dropping his hands to shrug. “I really am just trying to help. You really do have broken feathers in there.” 

“I _know_ that,” Lee snaps again. 

“So why haven’t you fixed ‘em?” Jet asks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Lee says, with his hacked-short hair and scarred face and worn-out clothes. “No one cares what my wings look like.” 

“I mean, you could,” Jet says, and then he spreads his own wings to wrap around them. Lee stiffens, eyeing them warily. Jet likes his wings, personally; they’re a nice shape and a nice color, and pretty well looked-after compared to the rest of him. It’s a lot easier to groom your wings than it is to scavenge decent clothes in a forest, of course. “What’s with the look?” 

“Nothing,” Lee says, still eyeing his wings. 

“If you say so,” Jet says wryly. He wants to kiss him _so_ bad but his wings aren’t big enough to hide them well enough that he thinks Lee would let him get away with it. He steps in a little bit, and Lee’s eyes flick to his face instead. Jet feels warm under the attention, even knowing Lee doesn’t mean it that way. 

He wants to kiss him, but what he really wants is to get at the guy’s wings. Usually he’s pretty good at talking people into letting him do things he wants. Lee, clearly, is good at being stubborn. 

“You don’t like people much, do you,” Jet says, reaching out to pluck a small stray feather off the other’s shoulder, and Lee’s wings tense again. Jet inspects the feather, and it really is pitch black. 

“Why would I?” Lee says. Jet looks at him again and, yeah, why _would_ he? Nothing about Lee looks like he’s got a reason to like anybody, except maybe his uncle. And that’s being optimistic, frankly. 

“Yeah, I know how that feels,” he says. He thinks about letting the feather blow away out of his fingers, but he doesn’t really want to. Then again, what is he gonna do, keep it? “Some days I don’t like anybody but Longshot and Smellerbee.” 

Not today, mind. Today he definitely likes somebody besides them. 

“Then what are you doing?” Lee says. Jet shrugs. 

“I said some days,” he says. “Seriously. Lemme help you out.” 

“Mm,” Lee says, his wings rustling uncomfortably. 

“It won’t take long,” Jet says. 

“I don’t feel like getting hurt, thanks,” Lee says. Jet gives him an incredulous look and finally lets the little feather blow away. 

“Who’s grooming you, damn?” he says. Maybe that’s not what Lee meant, but . . . “Why would it _hurt_?” 

Lee doesn’t say anything. Jet resists the urge to touch his wings for the umpteenth time. 

“Forget it,” Lee says after a long moment, not looking at him. “Fine. You can touch them.” 

“Yeah?” Jet says, immediately lighting up. He knows better than to give Lee the room to think twice, though, so—“Great, let’s sit down. It’ll be easier.” 

“Whatever,” Lee mutters, but they do go sit down in a little out-of-the-way corner of the ship. Lee bristles when Jet tries to sit behind him, so he settles for sitting beside him and figures he can move when it’s time to reach the other wing. He taps the nearer one, and Lee grudgingly unfolds it just enough to let him at it. Jet does the logical thing, which is take full advantage and start grooming him. Lee looks restless and tense, but he lets him. 

Jet’s never met anybody who didn’t want their wings groomed, personally, but at the same time, he’s not exactly shocked to find out Lee’s prickly about it. 

He takes his time, a bit, carefully running his fingers through the other’s dusty feathers and straightening the damaged ones. It really does look like Lee hasn’t done this in weeks, if not longer. Jet’s seen other refugees’ wings in similar condition, but never felt such a pressing urge to fix said condition as he does right now. 

Well, of course not. None of those other refugees were Lee. 

He’d need water to do a thorough job, obviously, but he doesn’t want to leave Lee for long enough to get it, so he just does the best he can for the moment. Lee glowers at him a bit during the process, but eventually the tension in his wing lessens enough to make Jet’s job easier. Jet brushes some of the dust off his feathers and finds pitch-black glossiness beneath. 

Yeah, he was right. These are some gorgeous wings, under all the mess. 

Someone walks across the deck nearby, and Lee unfolds his other wing, covering them with it. It’s more than big enough to do the job, and Jet can’t help the impressed noise he makes, even though Lee gives him a dirty look for it. 

“Your wings are gorgeous,” Jet says, and Lee’s expression darkens. 

“Don’t lie to me,” he says. 

“I mean, they need some maintenance, but they’re definitely gorgeous,” Jet says, straightening a broken feather and eyeing it critically. It’ll fall out on its own; no reason to pluck it right now. “Nobody told you that lately?” 

“They’re just wings,” Lee says. Jet raises an eyebrow at him, then glances at the wing hiding them from any potential passerby. 

Well, never let it be said he wasted an opportunity. 

“They’re gorgeous,” he repeats firmly, then leans in and kisses him. Lee makes a startled noise, those gorgeous wings flaring. Jet leans into him for a moment, then shifts back and looks at his face. Lee’s expression is a strange thing, vulnerable and new, and Jet immediately wants to kiss him again. 

So he does, obviously. 

Lee’s mouth moves uncertainly under his, and the other puts a hand on his arm. Jet expects pushed away, but it doesn’t happen. Lee’s wing wraps tighter around them, blocking out the light, and Jet feels that warm feeling again. It’s a good feeling, and not one he’s felt too many times, to be honest. 

He likes it. 

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs again. Lee bites him, and Jet laughs and winds an arm around his neck and kisses him harder. Lee makes a muffled noise that Jet normally would assume was protesting, except Lee wraps his arms around him in return and digs his fingers in, so . . . yeah, not so much. 

He likes _that_ , too. 

He likes just about everything about Lee, though. 

They kiss for a while, and their hands wander a little, and then they break it off and Lee lets Jet finish grooming his wings without complaint. Jet relishes it. When he’s done, they’re glossy and gorgeous just like he knew they would be, and the only thing he wants to look at. 

“Thanks,” Lee mutters, not looking at him, and Jet smiles and presses another kiss to the corner of the other’s mouth. 

“Any time,” he says, and means it.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr!](http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
